


Howl

by Alley_Walk (AlleyWalk_writes)



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: AU, Allen Walker is a Noah, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Angst with lotsa Fluff some Action and a bit of Drama, Body Hijacking, Brotherly Bonding, Dimension Travel, Gen, She's called Jas now, Trans Allen Walker, Trans Female Jasdero, Wisely quit invading Allen's personal brainspace, dont judge me, magically transitioned Allen Walker, no i am not biased at all bc im a twin, silent communication, stop it Allen youre making it worse, twins rule, when did you start thinking in kaomoji?!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22032301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleyWalk_writes/pseuds/Alley_Walk
Summary: Kanda and the others are in deep shit. After the beansprout's crazy plan to kill the Earl literally blew up in their faces, hijacking the bodies of their alternate selves and entering another universe wasn't exactly part of the fucking plan.With ghosts and monsters beyond their imagination now part of the equation in the fucked up mess that is the Order, their priorities should be going home. But there are two problems with that.Kanda never expected to see Alma ever again. He had put them, along with all the skeletons in his closet, to rest, and he had finally felt a semblance of peace.He should have known it wouldn't last forever. And with the beansprout missing and in the hands of the Noah, well, let's say, things are about to getinteresting.
Relationships: Allen Walker & Mana Walker & Neah D. Campbell, Lenalee & Lavi & Kanda Yuu, Nea D. Campbell & Mana Walker, Wisely Kamelot & Allen Walker
Kudos: 14





	Howl

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, y'all! ^_^
> 
> This is a new fic of mine, the first chapter of which I've been working on for a few days! This one is actually a bit more Christmas themed, as I had time to plan for it, so Merry belated Christmas/Happy Holidays/Happy Hanukkah (I think that the seventh day just ended yesterday, didn't it? So I'm technically not _too_ late. XD) or what have you. ^_^
> 
> This first chapter is pretty long, just 'cause I couldn't seem to get to a good stopping point in Allen's POV without more shit popping up. ^^ Which is good, I guess, otherwise I wouldn't have a 5k+ chap.
> 
> Anyway, warning for violence and gore and light vomiting. (I have a thing about vomiting and it didn't bother me much, if that helps gauge it for anyone at all). 
> 
> Also, the chapter title and future chapter titles will most likely be taken from Florence + The Machine songs, as this one as well as the fic title was.
> 
> Enjoy! ^_^

Allen wakes up in increments, his mind slow to piece itself back together. His body feels overly hot, his limbs throbbing with pain and his lungs scorching like fire, his head so full it feels like it’s about to burst. There’s something wrong about that, something hauntingly familiar, but Allen falls back to restless sleep before he can figure out what. In his dreams he feels a gentle hand touching his fevered forehead, placing a blessedly cool cloth over his brow, making him sigh in relief.

And Allen dreams.

The nighttime forest was cool and calm around him, the light from the moon above breaking through the forest canopy and illuminating everything with a silver glow, casting stark shadows across the ground. Nebulosa dug his claws into the treebark below him, using his pelt to blend in with the trees while balancing on a tree branch with ease. His keen ears were pricked, trying to pick up any noise of his pursuer from below. Nebulosa had been being pursued for as long as he could remember. It was all he knew.

He knew of his pursuer only as  _ temporis _ .  _ Temporis _ was a sly, cunning creature, always seeming to be two steps ahead. But it was in for a surprise, because the hunter was about to become the hunted. Nebulosa’s ears pricked as the hair raisingly familiar scent of dying flowers reached his nose, and he turned, peering down below. 

The wolf was sniffing around, its eyes sharp as it gravitated closer and closer to the base of Nebulosa’s tree. Almost… almost… there! Leaping from the tree branch Nebulosa landed on top of  _ temporis’s _ back, digging his claws into its sides and deep into its skin as he used his large canine teeth to bite into the back of  _ temporis’s _ neck. He missed his target by mere inches and  _ temporis _ snarled, turning its head and grabbing Nebulosa by the scruff of his neck, ripping him loose and throwing him down hard onto the forest floor.

Nebulosa scrabbled to his paws in the grass, trying to get his breath back into his abused lungs, looking straight up into  _ temporis’s _ glowing yellow eyes right before it lunged for him. But Nebulosa wasn’t that scared little cub anymore. He was tired of running. Diving underneath  _ temporis’s _ strike, Nebulosa surged up from underneath it and and bit down, ripping out its throat with a spray of blood and viscera. Nebulosa chewed and swallowed the morsel, liquid fire coursing through his veins before a feeling of cold engulfed his body, the fire settling deep within his chest.

Then  _ temporis’s _ body was fading and changing, and for just a moment Nebulosa had two familiar faces looking back up at him, their eyes dead and staring, blood pooling around their bodies.

Nebulosa stepped back, horror flooding through his veins.

Mana. Nea. (No no no). They were both supposed to be dead.

They had to be. They had to be- 

Allen wakes up with a gasp.  _ “-dead.” _ He chokes out.

He finds himself sitting up in a large canopy bed in an unfamiliar room, his body drenched in a cold sweat. He shivers. It’s freezing in here. 

The room is light and airy, painted a sky blue with white accents and a ceiling that arches high above his head, frescoed with the hue of every blue imaginable in a kaleidoscope of colors on the ceiling. The large canopy bed sits in the corner of the room, a bedside table beside it, the bed sitting against the same wall where the outside door stands half open. On the opposite wall another door leads to an en suite bathroom, bookcases filled to the brim with books taking up the rest of the wall. The last wall has a dresser with dark stained wood and a pair of open doors that lead to a large balcony, curtains blowing in the breeze. The hardwood floors are of a dark stained wood, and a round flint grey carpet is in the middle of the room along with a few bark brown couches and chairs covered in fluffy blankets and pillows surrounding a low table cluttered with well worn books and dirty plates and mugs.

Remembering his dream Allen’s stomach churns, nausea roiling in his belly. He feels like he’s going to sick up. He remembers Mana’s dead stare, piercing through him, and bile rises in his throat. He throws off the covers and scrambles out of bed, sprinting across the room with speed he didn’t know he had until he’s sitting braced against the toilet bowl vomiting his guts out. He wants Lenalee, he wants Kanda. He wants to be left alone. And then it hits him.

He can’t believe he’d forgotten. His and Nea’s desperate plan to blow up the Ark with the Earl and most of the Noah inside it. How his friends had snuck onto the Ark with him, not knowing his plan. By then it was too late, and they’d only had seconds to say goodbye before… 

Allen throws up again.

After he’s done, he flushes the toilet (which he’s quite surprised to see inside someone’s home) and takes stock, grounding himself. His lungs are in working order, his chest rising and falling as he breathes. The scent of desiccated flowers fills his nose, and he shivers, feeling cold. Allen places his hand on the left side of his chest to reassure himself and can feel the steady beat of his heart, almost imagine it pulsing beneath his fingertips. The left side of his face throbs, his whole left arm burning like the ache of his first activation. He looks at his hands, gloveless. His right hand has deep brown skin, which causes him to stare for a moment. 

That’s… new.

Luckily his left hand is the same black carapace-like texture as before, and he takes a moment to run his hand over his segmented finger joints before standing, bracing himself before striding over to look in the mirror. The deep brown skin shouldn’t be a surprise, but it is. What’s more of a surprise is the rest of his appearance. Allen almost can’t see his curse scar for a moment for all the blood caked on his face, and when he scratches it off he finds the scar inflamed and scabbed over as if it were fresh on his face. His hair is long and goes down to his shoulder blades, with patches of it that are colored both white and a deep umber, his old hair color. His eyes, instead of being pure gold, are the clear blue of his normal eye color, with specks of gold that seem to gleam in the lamplight. He lifts up his bangs and the sight of a smooth forehead greets him.

No stigma. Huh. 

His facial features also look different. He has a strong jaw, though a bit smaller and more fine featured than he would like, and when he rolls up his sleeve his musculature is that of a male’s, not a female’s. Now that he thinks about it, everything feels a little bit different, and… 

Oh. 

Blinking back tears of joy, Allen sits back against the wall and tries to think.

He’s obviously not gone. And he doesn’t feel any different than usual, other than having muscles and private parts that are blessedly different than before. Could this be a particularly vivid dream he’s having, right before death? But he can breathe. He has a heartbeat. He’s thinking and feeling things that people normally don’t in dreams. 

So this can’t be a dream, not unless it’s one of Road’s dreams. And he did something to make it pretty impossible for this to be one of Road’s dreams.

So… is this  _ real _ ?

Are he and his friends actually  _ alive _ ?

Are they just waiting out there somewhere, for Allen to find them?

With that thought stuck firmly in the back of his mind, Allen stumbles to his feet and runs out of the door to the bedroom he had been in. The door leads to a carpeted hallway that breaks off into a banistered walkway with a long spiralling staircase with shallow steps that’s wide enough to fit seven Allen’s walking side by side. His bare feet make no noise as he descends down it, looking up at the glass chandeliers hanging from the high arching ceilings as he enters a lounge area, the leather chairs and sofas with the wall fountain sprinkling off to the side obviously meant more for luxury than anything else, making Allen wonder just whose house he’s in.

He smells food and hears the clink of cutlery and the sound of talking and laughter and decides to investigate. He might have just been violently ill but Allen is always up for a meal. He walks into the dining room and the first face his eyes land on is that of Sheryl Kamelot’s. Allen stops, dropping into a slight ready stance as he takes in the rest of the room. Lulubell is there, seated next to Sheryl and primly eating a slice of ham. Next to Sheryl is a woman that Allen almost doesn’t recognize, before he notices the black spiky hair and playful smile on her face. That woman is Road. He remembers Nea saying something about her actually being twenty-five years old mentality-wise, but it hadn’t really sunk in until now.

...Doesn’t that make her obsession with him border on pedoephelia? 

Next to adult Road are the twins, eating their hearts out while yelling accusations of food theft across the table. Across from Sheryl is Tyki, who of course is eating like the unmannered hobo he secretly is, and next to him is Wisely, whose three red eyes are staring right at Allen. That would have put Allen on the attack in regular circumstances if it weren’t for the other two people sitting beside Wisely. The first is Nea, gesticulating wildly in order to make some point to the person beside him. And the person beside him, no matter how much he looks like Tyki, is unmistakably–

“Mana?” 

His skin, his eyes, why were they-

Everyone at the table looks up from their food as tension fills the air, so thick that Allen could cut through it with Crown Clown’s claws. Sheryl looks at his uncovered left arm and his face creases with distaste, and he quickly looks away and back to his food. Allen grips his left arm, feeling defensive.

Mana’s a Noah? Mana is-?

Lulubell examines him for a moment, her face inscrutable, before she gives him a nod and goes back to her plate. Allen’s not sure how to feel about that. Tyki’s face brightens at the sight of him however, and he smiles at Allen, though he seems a bit… uncertain? “Good to see you finally back on your feet, boy.”

Pulling himself together, Allen gives Tyki a friendly smile. He’s always liked Tyki, no matter their differences. “Thanks. No offense, but your transformation process could use a bit of work.” Wisely snorts while the twins cackle, Nea accidentally snorting orange juice up his nose mid-swallow and proceeding to laugh-cough with Mana pounding on his back.

Mana ManaMana why-

Allen takes a deep breath and takes his eyes off of Mana. Or not-Mana. Because that can’t be Mana. Not his Mana. Allen’s starting to think that wherever he is, it’s nothing like where he was before. Before he can finish that train of thought Jasdero and Devito dance over, Devito with an enormous grin and Jasdero with a slight smile on her face. Or maybe Jas? Allen thinks he heard Devito call her that once, after she had evidently decided that she didn’t just like her hair long ‘just because’. The Exorcists had been quick to correct themselves where Jas’s gender was concerned considering that Devito got a lot more vicious in a fight whenever they used the wrong pronoun for her. Allen can sympathize, he supposes. He doesn’t like being misgendered either, though that’s happened less often ever since he got his top surgery.

_ And now, a magic dick. _ Allen thinks, nearly crying at the mere thought of it. He sees Wisely snort and hide a smile, rolling his gold speckled slate gray eyes in Allen’s direction.

Devito grins at him and slaps him on the back, Allen flinching away and only realizing it had been a friendly gesture a moment too late. “Welcome to the fam, man!” 

Jas smiles her black lipstick smile, (not that Devito doesn’t wear black lipstick, along with, it seems, mascara, dramatic swirling black face paint and several silver piercings in his nose, ears and lower lip, which makes Jas’s small silver hoop earrings, mascara and subtle face paint under her eyes seem remarkably tame), her expression practically roguish. “Yeah. By the way, just tell us when you’re ready to have a little fun around here. Christmas day’s way too formal if you ask me, and soon we’ll be celebrating your Metamorphosis Party, and those are a total bore.” Jas and Devito sigh together, and then each give the other conspiratorial looks.

Allen smiles at them both. He’s not sure, but they seem different from the Jas and Devito he had known before. “Thank you, I’ll take it into consideration, Jas, Devito.” Devito smiles at him, taking Jas’s hand and squeezing, making her smile at her brother.

“Hey what about us, don’t we get a ‘thank you’?” A younger yet still familiar voice asks, and Nea shoulders past Jas and Devito, much to their annoyance. Mana – no,  _ not- _ Mana is following behind with a concerned expression on his face, and even though his face is younger, his hair longer, it still makes Allen’s heart  _ ache _ . 

(He’s not Mana. He  _ can’t be Mana-! _ )

“After all, we were the ones left to slave over you while you were sick.” Nea complains.

Not-Mana looks at him questioningly, concern in his eyes.  _ Are you alright, Allen? _

It hits Allen like a punch to the gut, this silent communication that Allen had shared with Mana as a child and, later, Nea and his friends. Though that last one was more out of necessity than any real desire to share it with anyone other than Mana, and possibly Nea. 

Allen takes a deep breath and smiles reassuringly at not-Mana, focusing on the chocolate brown of his eyes and trying to ignore the specks of gold.  _ I’m fine. Just a bit hungry, that’s all. _

Nea looks at him dubiously.  _ If you say so. _

Aloud, Allen teases, “sorry, no thank you’s for you.”

Nea mimes a blow to his heart, and not-Mana snickers. His eyes soften, and he says, “I’m glad you’re alright, Allen.” And then he’s pulling Allen into a hug, and Allen can smell the familiar scent of peppermint and aftershave, as well as the smell of the sea. Tears burning unshed in Allen’s eyes, he rests his head against Mana’s shoulder and blinks back his tears, Nea putting a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay. You’re safe now. You overcame it, it can’t hurt you anymore.” Nea says, and Allen blinks back more tears even as they stream down his face. He hadn’t quite known just how shaken he had been by that dream, not until Nea had addressed it. 

Allen wipes his eyes a few moments later, and then blushes when he stomach growls. Nea grins. “C’mon, let’s get you some dinner. We went full out this year so there should be plenty.”

Road smiles mischievously at him as Allen sits between Nea and Mana. “Allen~! Tell us about your dream!” Nea loads up Allen’s plate high with food, completely demolishing all thought processes for a span of immeasurable time before he looks up from a mostly empty plate, finally registering Road’s question. Nearly everyone is staring at him, gobsmacked, Nea with an expression of horrified fascination and Wisely of one watching an impending trainwreck. 

“You can already ff’ee into my dream’ff can’t you?” Allen asks around a mouthful of food, making Sheryl and Nea wrinkle their noses in distaste.

Road’s eyes sharpen, and her lips purse. “I can’t see into dreams like that. But you knew that already, didn’t you Allen?”

Allen nods, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Of course. I suppose I just forgot.” Now everyone at the table is eyeballing him as if he’s grown two heads, and Allen wonders what he’s said wrong. It must really be an alternate universe, if him forgetting something is a cause for alarm.

_ Yes, the alternate universe theory was what I came up with too once I was able to decipher your thoughts _ , Wisely’s voice says directly into his head, and Allen flinches.  _ You have no need to worry, I have no plans of telling anyone your secret. It would only upset the people who were close to Blackbourne. _

_ ‘Blackbourne’? _ Allen thinks back.

_ The last name of your alternate self whose body you now possess.  _ Wisely answers, the words striking Allen like a bolt of lightning. He hadn’t thought about why the Noah were acting so friendly with him, how they seemed to  _ know _ him. But if he had killed someone to even  _ get _ here… just the thought made him feel sick.

What was he even still doing here, invading someone else’s life, staying somewhere he didn’t belong?

This was a dead man’s life. The life of the man he had killed.

Not his.

_ It may not be your life, but you have a responsibility to make up for your mistakes _ , Wisely argues, grief and anger in his voice.

Allen shoves more mashed potatoes and gravy into his mouth. He’s not sure when exactly they made it onto his plate. _ ‘I’ll think about it.’ _ Allen tells him.

_ If you want my help you’d better. _

Allen considers this.  _ ‘I think I’ll be fine on my own.’ _

Wisely covers his face with his hand.  _ You’re just as stubborn as him. _ He says, pain in his voice. He pauses.  _ If you want my advice, be honest about the dream. From what I’m reading off of you, our metamorphosis is different than yours was. _

Before Allen can begin describing his dream, Sheryl puts his foot down. “The dream is described at the Metamorphosis Party, Road. You know the traditions.”

“But I wanna know now!” Road protests, scowling at him.

As one, Nea and not-Mana grab his hands, Nea mouthing, ‘let’s book it,’ before they hurry out of the room before the impending fight can begin. Allen finds himself sitting in front of a Christmas tree, silver and gold tinsel decorating it as well as the room around it. There is a lot of ripped up wrapping paper scattered all over the floor, but under the Christmas tree there are still a few presents left, all labelled ‘Allen’ ‘Blackbourne’ or more informally, ‘Al’ or ‘Allie’.

Allen really doesn’t want to open these. He feels repulsed at the thought of claiming something like this, the gifts that belong to a dead man. But looking at Nea and not-Mana’s faces, he finds he can’t refuse. “Which one do you want me to open first?” 

“Ours!” Nea demands, shoving a small box that tingles underneath his fingertips. There’s a card attached, and when Allen pulls it out of the envelope he sees it’s covered in black and gold glitter that swirls together like a maelstrom of fire.

A bare patch in the center says,

_ Dear Al, _

Hesitating, Allen flips open the card to read the note written inside.

_ Since the first time we met you’ve been like a brother to us, just another part of the family, at least in our eyes. And I (we, Nea) alright,  _ **_we_ ** _ decided to give you something to celebrate that. (We both love you, and don’t you ever forget that). _

_ Love you lots, _

_ Nea and Mana _

Putting aside the card along with the real emotions he feels about the note, he puts on a smile and laughs, pulling Nea and not-Mana into a hug. He feels Nea suck in a sharp breath and Allen pulls back, recognizing the pain filled noise for what it is. “Nea, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He asks, concerned.

Nea waves it off. “It’s nothing. Your left arm just burned me a bit.” Allen’s eyes widen and he jerks his left arm away from Nea.

“I’m sorry, Nea.” Allen says, upset. “I didn’t mean to-”

Nea places his hands on Allen’s shoulders, wincing a bit and moving his hand to Allen’s collarbone on his left side, his hand an ugly red. “It’s fine, Al. Look, it’s already healing, see?” He says, wriggling his fingers in Allen’s direction, where the red on his fingers and palm is slowly fading.

“Don’t worry, he’s fine, the big baby.” Not-Mana teases, causing Nea to stick out his tongue at him. Not-Mana looks at Allen with some curiosity. “Not to prod, but it  _ was _ odd for you to gain an Innocence while under metamorphosis, wasn’t it?”

Nea nods, contemplative. “Your hair and scar happened during the dream, didn’t it?”

Allen pauses. Be honest. Or at least as honest as possible. “I can’t say for certain, to be completely honest. I was injured during the fight, though.” He makes a gesture over his left eye, and they both nod. Allen looks up, tapping his chin in thought. Not-Mana seems to expect him to know the answer to his question, so he’ll answer it. “You have to understand that Innocence is usually gained under times of extreme stress or desperation. The urge to fight, to survive, to protect. So no, it wouldn’t be unusual for a person to gain one during that type of situation, at least if they were compatible, in my opinion.”

Not-Mana and Nea look thoughtful. Then Nea’s face breaks out into a grin. “Alright, enough serious talk! Go on and finish opening your presents!”

Allen smiles at him. “Alright.” Looking at the small box he’s accidentally left on the floor between them, Allen picks it up and begins to slowly unwrap it, careful not to tear any of the wrapping paper. Nea looks like he’s ready to tear his hair out by the time he’s done, but Mana restrains him with good humor.

Allen sets the wrapping paper aside and looks down at his present. Inside the wrapping paper is a small laminate black jewelry case with a glass display on the front. Inside is a necklace with a finely made half gold, half silver chain, with a golden teardrop pendant with silver behind and around it. Allen looks up, not understanding before he notices the gold and silver teardrop earring that Nea’s wearing and the silver ring with a gold teardrop on top Mana’s wearing on his ring finger.

These are symbols of friendship. Of family. Allen wants to say, “I can’t accept this.” He wants to say, “the person this is for is already dead. Please, don’t waste it on me.” Instead he smiles and says, “I love it. Will one of you help me put it on?”

Nea grins, immediately jumping up and taking the box out of Allen’s hands. He seats himself behind Allen and strokes his hair for a moment, and Allen closes his eyes, immediately soothed by the motion.

“He’s purring,” Nea says, amused.

Not-Mana hides a smile behind his hand. “Well at least now we know what kind of shifter he is.”

“Do you think the food coma’s setting in? I mean, he did eat  _ a lot _ .” Nea says.

Allen frowns in his half asleep state. “‘Tis normal. ‘Fer Parasite Types…” This is cut off by a yawn, and he flops over onto Nea, making sure in his sleepy state to keep his left arm away from him as Nea yelps and hits the floor.

Once the petting stops Allen regains his coherence and he opens his eyes to glare at Nea from his place laying half on, half off his chest, Nea smiling sheepishly. Allen levers himself to his feet and crosses his arms over his chest while he stares down at Nea, resisting the too-feminine urge to put his hands on his hips. “You were just way too cute for me to stop?” Nea excuses.

Allen kicks him.

Opening the rest of his presents, Allen receives a scented candle from Road – one of her deadly pointed ones, the point filed down with a candle wick inside – that Road promises will give him sweet dreams every time it’s lit. Allen thinks this dubious at best considering his experiences with Road’s dreams before, but if his dreams get too unmanageable he might give it a shot. 

Wisely’s gift is an old tome about the history of the Noah, looking hastily wrapped, and Allen finds a note inside of the cover with references to other books. Wisely has written below in a hasty scrawl, “They’re in Blackbourne’s library. He was Bookman’s apprentice, so you’re expected to know this backwards and forwards by now. If you don’t want my help, at least don’t mess up too badly.”

He gets several different balls of yarn from Lulubell, which Allen appreciates considering his habit of knitting when he’s stressed. The present had simply been labelled ‘Blackbourne’. 

Jas and Devito got him a messily wrapped present that was labelled ‘Allie’, and inside is a plush animal that looks like a cross between a fox and a raccoon. It’s fur is so soft that Allen immediately hugs it to his chest, much to Nea’s and Mana’s amusement.

The last gift is from Tyki, and after coming out of the box is rather horrifying. Inside a hovering globe of water sits one of Tyki’s carnivorous butterflies, and Nea shows him how he enchanted it to hover over a person’s hand or remain up in the air wherever he wants it to be. 

“I  _ am _ a sorcerer, after all.” He says.

Allen eventually decides to bring his various gifts up to his room and take a shower before putting on the necklace, as lying in a sickbed for what was apparently weeks on end has done nothing for his personal hygiene, and he’d like to change into some long sleeves and maybe find some gloves as well.

_ I think Sheryl has some old gloves that might fit you. I can put them in the wash if you like. _ Wisely tells him through unwanted yet helpful telepathy.

_ Yes, I’m just useful like that. _ ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Allen’s not sure how Wisely got his mental point across like that, so he only hopes his own response goes through.

'┻┻︵ヽ(`Д´)ﾉ︵┻┻'

_ dsj;flk _

_ Don’t do that again, please. You’re giving me a massive headache. _

'ʅ₍ッ₎ʃ'

_ Ugh. _

When Wisely doesn’t say anything more Allen assumes he’s left him alone for now. Going into Alternate Allen’s dresser with guilt churning in his stomach, he finds their taste in dress mostly the same and pulls out some suitable clothing, reluctantly bringing the necklace with him as he enters the bathroom. He shivers, he’s still so cold. Turning the water up as hot as it can go Allen enters the shower, finding it comparable to the ones he might find at the Order, standing underneath the scalding hot spray as steam billows out around him. It’s strange. He still feels cold.

He finds several different types of shampoo and picks one that doesn’t smell too strongly; his senses seem a bit out of whack right now, everything too loud or too strongly scented. It had been hard not to show how disoriented he felt from all of the different smells he could detect, from the recently mopped floor to Sheryl’s cologne to the detergent on people’s clothes. Shaking off his thoughts, Allen shampoos his hair and then rinses it, going for the conditioner of the same smell. He washes his body with some exploration and much enjoyment, glad to finally feel comfortable in his own skin.

When he gets out and looks at the mirror it’s to notice that most of his red hair is gone, with just some strands and tips of his hair left. He idly wishes it would stay that way. He’d missed his old hair color. 

Putting on black pants, a white dress shirt and a navy blue half suit vest, Allen brushes most of his long hair back into a ponytail, clasping the necklace around his neck as he makes his way out of the shower, shivering in the cold. Walking down the stairs, Allen finds everyone in a large sparring room, discussing something heatedly, though their voices break off as soon as he enters.

Allen keeps his expression neutral, on guard again. “What is it?”

Sheryl turns to him and smiles, sickly sweet. “We were all just discussing whether or not a demonstration with your Innocence would be necessary.” He turns to Road. “Isn’t that right, Road?” Road frowns, her brow furrowed, but doesn’t answer. “I mean it would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Sheryl goes on, his voice genial and understanding, hiding the poison underneath. “To  _ know _ , to get rid of all those lingering doubts and fears. To just  _ see _ it… that wouldn’t be so bad,  _ would it _ , Allen?” 

Allen can see the seeds of Sheryl’s words taking root. The doubt on all of their faces. He’s probably been working the others for hours, for all Allen knows.

Allen’s eyes turn steely. He crosses his arms over his chest and gives his answer.

* * *

Kanda’s mind abruptly jolts from zero to one hundred in the space of a nanosecond. Light and sound flicker to life around him, along with a whole lot of screaming. What the fuck? Where the fuck is he? With effort, Kanda’s rebooting brain takes stock of his surroundings, and he finds himself taking cover behind a piece of rubble while a storm of Akuma shriek around him. But no. They’re not Akuma. They may fly through the air like fucking Akuma, but they’re entirely too human, bleeding from wounds that should have been fatal to any normal human.

The air is cold and biting, scorching his lungs as he breathes and making his breath fog out in front of him. Frost covers the ground and the buildings nearby, but Kanda dismisses this. His boots have plenty of traction. Kanda startles as he’s grabbed from behind, claw-like hands ripping into his shoulders. And then suddenly he can’t breathe, and he kicks and struggles, holding on tightly to Mugen’s hilt. And then he can breathe again, and he finds himself _ on the other side _ of the piece of rubble. Snapping his head back, Kanda headbutts whatever the hell just grabbed him with the back of his head, and it let’s go with an inhuman screech, blood sticking in Kanda’s hair. He whirls on it, using his momentum to slice it in half, electric green blood and viscera spraying Kanda’s already dirtied face and clothes.

Wasn’t its blood red before? 

Searching the battlefield, Kanda spots Lavi’s hammer and Lenalee darting through the air. There’s someone else too, and Kanda catches a brief glimpse of their face through the mob of battle, making his heart stop dead in his chest. 

Because that… 

That was impossible.

They were  _ dead. _

Kanda nearly gets caught by surprise by another one of those _things_ , so he forces himself to look away from Alma, and throw himself into the fight.

They could figure things out. 

Later.

The post-battle clean up was left to the Finders, who were grateful to the Exorcists for getting rid of the horde of ‘ghosts’. Kanda had no fucking idea how ghosts existed when they weren’t supposed to anymore, and he was too tired from the post-battle exhaustion to really care.

“Hey, Yuu. Are you, y’know,  _ you _ ?” Kanda looks up from staring at his soba, his hair still slightly damp from being decontaminated. Because apparently fucking ghost contamination is a thing now.

Lavi is standing over him staring at him with his (now two) good eyes, obviously expecting some sort of answer. Kanda scowls and raises an eyebrow at him.  _ You couldn’t have found any other way to say that, stupid rabbit? _

Lavi sighs, slumping with dramatic relief.  _ Thank God. I thought I was all alone here. _ He perks up.  _ Do you think Lenalee…? _

Kanda shrugs, indifferent. _ Probably. _

Lavi grins and goes off to get some food, plopping himself down a few minutes later with Lenalee in tow, nothing but yakiniku and chocolate cake on Lavi’s and Lenalee’s plates. Kanda can’t even judge them. He eats his own favorite food every single fucking day.

Lenalee raises her eyebrows.  _ Do either of you know what’s going on? _

Lavi frowns thoughtfully.  _ I have a few theories. _

Kanda scowls at him. _ Spit it out, then. We don’t have all fucking day. _

Lavi looks up at the ceiling.  _ Well, this could be either a joint hallucination that we’re all having while on the verge of death, we could be in Road’s dreamworld while she subtly fucks with us, this could be an alternate reality which we’ve somehow entered without drawing anyone’s attention, or we’re all dead and this is the afterlife. _

Kanda smiles bitterly.  _ If this is hell, then you’re here with me. _

Lenalee stabs at her chocolate cake hard with her fork, taking a bite before frowning at Kanda.  _ I don’t really want this to be hell, no offense Kanda. _

_ Then I think the alternate universe theory is the likeliest. _ Lavi comments, eating some of his yakiniku. 

Before they can comment further, Alma shows up with a smile on their face and immediately starts chatting up a storm with Lavi, which Lavi takes with as much grace as he can given the current situation.

Kanda meets Lenalee’s eyes.  _ Later. _

They would have to save it all for later. Including finding that fucking beansprout.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the small cliffie. I couldn't resist.
> 
> Will he? Won't he? I guess you'll have to find out next chapter. ;)
> 
> Also, Wisely's keyboard smash was essentially the translation of his brain shorting out and then forming a massive headache. :) Poor Wisely, Allen's going to be putting him through so much shit. XD
> 
> And Mana also got hurt by Allen's arm, but like Allen he tends not to show when he's in pain, at least not when he knows it'll have a negative impact on other people he cares about. ^_^
> 
> The plushie Jas and Devito got Allen was of a Raccoon Dog, which if you don't know are delightfully cute creatures who definitely earned their names. They're also called Tanuki, and if you're interested in looking up pictures of them I'd recommend it, as they are *adorable*. The reason why Jas and Devito gave him this gift in particular will remain a mystery... 
> 
> I'll tell you straight out since you probably won't be finding out in the narrative any time soon that the balls of yarn from Lulubell are a joke gift from when Blackbourne first gave _Lulubell_ a ball of yarn for Christmas, and has been a running joke for them for years since then.
> 
> I'll leave you to wonder about the reasons for the rest of the gifts, though. ;)
> 
> Alright, see y'all next chap! ^_^


End file.
